Josh had known about them.
And somehow, those babies were now in my house.
“How long have you known?”
Josh looked away.
“About the twins? A few months.”
The answer cut through me.
“A few months?”
“He told me when Claire was pregnant.”
“Who is Claire?”
“Dad’s wife.”
His wife.
The word hurt more than I expected it to.
I didn’t want Daniel back. I hadn’t wanted him back for years. But learning that he had built an entirely new life while I was still repairing the damage from the old one felt like discovering a hidden crack running through the foundation of my home.
“How long have you been speaking to him?”
Josh’s silence answered before his mouth did.
“Seven months,” he admitted.
I stood.
“You have been secretly meeting your father for seven months?”
“I wasn’t trying to betray you.”
“What would you call it?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you!”
“You could have started with the truth!”
“And then what?” His voice rose for the first time. “You would have looked at me exactly like you’re looking at me now.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like I chose him over you.”
The words stopped me.
One of the babies began to fuss. Josh immediately lowered his voice and rocked her carefully.
He knew how to hold her.
That realization frightened me almost as much as the babies themselves.
“Where is Daniel?” I asked.
“In the hospital.”
“What happened?”
Josh’s anger faded.
“Claire died ten days after the twins were born. She had a heart condition no one knew about.”
I pressed my fingers against my lips.
Whatever resentment I felt toward a woman I had never met vanished.
“She died?”
Josh nodded.
“Dad tried to take care of the babies by himself. He barely slept. This morning, his neighbor found him unconscious in the kitchen. The ambulance took him to the hospital.”
My knees weakened.
“Were the babies alone?”
“Mrs. Greene was with them. She lives across the hall. But she’s seventy-eight and couldn’t keep them overnight.”
“And you went there?”
“Dad texted me before the ambulance came. He said he didn’t know who else to call.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course he had called his sixteen-year-old son.
Daniel had always been talented at placing his burdens into someone else’s hands.
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang.
Josh looked toward the hallway.
“That’s probably Ms. Patel.”
“Who is Ms. Patel?”
“The hospital social worker.”
I stared at him.
“There is a social worker coming to my house?”
“She drove us here. She was getting the paperwork from her car.”
At least Josh had not simply taken two babies and appeared on our doorstep without anyone knowing.
But the small comfort did nothing to calm the storm inside me.
“Paperwork for what?”
He looked at the twins.
“For a temporary family placement.”
The Seventy-Two-Hour Decision
Ms. Patel was a calm woman in her fifties with silver strands in her dark hair and a leather folder tucked under one arm.
She did not rush me.
